


Paris Summit

by ZoeSong



Series: Paris Summit [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eiffel Tower, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Paris (City), Ragnar Lothbrok - Freeform, Rolisla, Viking Folk Metal, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 09:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11574939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeSong/pseuds/ZoeSong
Summary: A chance encounter in Paris. Rolisla Modern AU.





	Paris Summit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauredessine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauredessine/gifts), [UnderTheSkyline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderTheSkyline/gifts), [CeridwenofWales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeridwenofWales/gifts), [DaizyDoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaizyDoe/gifts), [swimmingfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimmingfox/gifts).



> A ficlet inspired by my recent visit to the Eiffel Tower.
> 
> Thanks to Lauredessine for her help with French expressions.
> 
> More notes at the end.

~~

[](http://imgur.com/WpucwKN)

~~

Gisla came out of the lift and made her way to the southwest corner – and collided with something very solid. "Abruti! Regarde où tu marche!" she muttered under her breath.

As she stumbled back, strong arms reached out to steady her. “Sorry! I wasn’t looking. Are you okay?” A deep voice filled with concern questioned her.

She righted herself and looked up at the owner of the deep voice. A tall bearded man, his dark hair spilling out of a man-bun, was peering down at her with very expressive eyes. She nodded, and he released her arm, stepping back, but still watched her.

Feeling irritated – and a little uncomfortable under his gaze – she said abruptly, “I am all right, thank you.”

“Sorry – I was so excited to see the view that I didn’t notice you.” He turned toward the edge of the cupola and waved his hand. “It’s so amazing up here.”

The man seemed so exuberant about the city that Gisla didn’t have the heart to stay cross with him. And after all, she had been pretty distracted herself when she arrived at the summit. “I understand. I’m glad you like it. Enjoy!” 

She turned away from him and chose a place at the rail a polite distance from him. She had come early to avoid the usual crush of tourists so she could contemplate in relative peace. 

But as she stood there, she heard the man talking to himself, still marveling over the view. And he seemed to be trying to find something down below. She tried to ignore him – she just wanted to be alone. Yet she felt guilty – she should offer to help him.

She edged a little closer to his position. “You seem to be looking for something. Can I help?”

He looked up in surprise. “Oh, yes, thanks. I’m trying to find the apartment I’m staying at. It’s just down there someplace. We can see the tower from our window.” He pointed down toward the river at the foot of the tower.

“Do you know the street?” 

He pronounced the street name badly, but she found it for him on her phone app, and pointed it out. “You are very close by. It’s a nice area.”

“Yes, my brother has a friend who is out of town and let us use his place.”

“How lucky for you. Where are you from?”

“The US. Minnesota, originally.”

“Ah, that’s somewhere in the middle, yes?”

“Yes.” He smiled broadly and nodded vigorously.

His smile was infectious and she found herself warming to him in spite of herself. “What brings you to Paris?”

“I’m on tour with my brother’s band – ‘Ravens of Ragnarok’– you probably won’t have heard of them. It’s a Viking Folk Metal band.”

“Oh, interesting.” She hadn’t heard of them, and wondered vaguely what Viking Folk Metal was. She looked around for more tall, Nordic-looking men. “Is the rest of your band with you?”

“No, they are jetlagged – and my brother has his wife and kids with him – so they stayed at the apartment. I couldn’t wait to come up here, so I came ahead of them.”

Gisla smiled. She couldn’t fault the man for his enthusiasm. She watched as he continued to gaze down on the river and the streets below. She wasn’t sure why she stayed near him – she had been polite, she could take her leave now and move on. But something about him was appealing. His looks, his manner, his excitement about her city.

He shifted a little, edging around the corner of the rail, then glanced back at her. “And you? Where are you from?”

“Here. Paris.” She casually moved along the rail, following his path.

“Really?”

“Why are you so surprised?” 

“I supposed that Parisians wouldn’t bother to come up here.”

“Well, some don’t. But I do. I love it up here.” She gazed out across the white expanse of city buildings and sighed. 

“Is anything wrong? You seem sad.” His eyes were sympathetic.

“No. Well, yes, a little. I am leaving in a few days.”

“Leaving for good? Why is that?”

She had asked herself the same question for weeks now. “My work. I am a designer and my latest line has been picked up by a fashion house in New York.”

“Wow, good for you. That must be exciting.”

“Yes, it is. But I’m sad to leave my home.”

The man nodded. “If I lived here, I’d probably feel the same. But I travel around so much, it’s hard to think of anywhere as home now.” He went back to staring out through the caged screen. “Someone told me to look for a church on a hill. That’s supposed to also have a nice view of the city.”

“Ah, yes, Montmartre – the Sacre Coeur. But it is over that way.” She pointed towards the other side of the cupola. She noted his hesitation, as if he doubted he could find it, and she took pity on him. “Come, I’ll show you. And I can show you other things here as well.”

His eyes lit up.

And so they spent a pleasant half hour going from one part of the cupola to the next as she pointed out landmarks and told him a little of their history. She found that she was enjoying herself so much that she nearly forgot that she would be leaving in a few days.

As they rounded the last corner, the American noticed the champagne bar. Before she could stop him, he bounded over to it, returning with two glasses. He handed one to her. “For you – we must have a toast.”

She took it hesitantly, but again his enthusiasm overwhelmed her. 

He raised his glass. “To your new job – may it be a great success. And to Paris.” 

"Santé." They touched glasses and drank. And Gisla felt more of her dread lift. She smiled. And to her own surprise, she asked, “What are you doing after this? Perhaps I can show you more of Paris.”

“That would be great! I have all day.” 

“Won’t your band mates be missing you?”

“No, they’ll still be asleep – they didn’t sleep on the plane. I’ll text them.”

“Very well. What would you like to do first?”

The man looked down to the river below and pointed. “Well, I was thinking it would be nice to go on one of those boats. Isn’t there a lot to see along the river?”

“Yes. A cruise on the Seine is a good place to start.”

“Excellent.” He nodded eagerly. Then he put out his hand. “I’m Rollo.”

She hesitated only a moment before taking his hand. “Enchanté. I’m Gisla.”

He stared into her eyes for a mesmerizing moment, still holding her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Gisla extricated her hand and waved towards the lift. “Shall we?”

And so they embarked on a tour of her city.

 

~~

 

Many hours later, after a whirlwind tour of some of Gisla’s favorite spots in the city, she brought them to the Trocadero. As they made the short walk from the Metro station, she waited for Rollo’s reaction when the tower – in all its evening golden glory – came into view. 

He stopped midsentence. “Wow!”

“It gets better. Come on.” They continued up the stairs and to the wall of the overlook from the Trocadero. They stood there for a few minutes, just taking it in. All of a sudden, the tower began twinkling. 

She saw his jaw drop and he gasped. “Magnificent!”

She beamed. Why did she feel so proud? She had not built that tower nor lit it up. And yet she felt as if she had a part in making it what it was. And perhaps she had. She had brought him here to enjoy one of the best views of the tower and her city.

When the twinkling stopped he turned to her. “Gisla, this has been the most amazing day.”

“It was my pleasure.”

They stood smiling at each other for a long moment. And Gisla felt drawn to him. She shook her head. This was no time to be falling for some guy! “Well, I must be going now.”

His smile faded, but he recovered quickly. “Ah, yes, of course. You must have a lot to do before you leave for New York.”

She nodded. In truth, she had done most of it already, but of course she still had some things to arrange before leaving. “I’ll walk you back to the Metro station. It’s only one stop for you, as I showed you. Or you can walk from here – just down to the street along the river and to the right.”

“Then I think I will walk. I’m not ready to go back yet.”

Gisla smiled. “Bonne nuit!” She started to walk away.

“Good bye. Oh, Gisla, wait!” He waved his phone at her. “May I have a picture with you?”

“Of course.” She stepped back to where he stood. 

He positioned his phone carefully to make a decent selfie. “Ready? Smile! There. Perfect.” 

He showed her the shot. It was good, with the tower perfectly positioned between them. “Il est bon.”

“You want a copy? I can send it to you.”

She looked up and caught a sincere, hopeful look in his always expressive eyes. Should she or shouldn’t she? 

Giving him a sly smile, she slipped the phone from his hand. She tapped quickly at the keys, sending the photo to herself, then handed the phone back to him. “There. Now you have my number. Maybe you can look me up if you are ever in New York.”

His grin nearly split his face. “I will.”

Gisla suppressed a giggle, gave him a little wave, and headed off. As she reached the foot of the stairs, she glanced back, expecting him to be staring at the tower. But he was still watching her. He gave her a slow, sad wave. 

Waving back, she turned, smiling to herself, and walked away into the Paris night.

She knew that she would see him again.

 

~~

[](http://imgur.com/zEBNoDG)

~~

 

Notes:

So of course there are notes! It seems like I can’t write anything without finding the need to do some research, and I always learn interesting things when I do. 

Abruti! Regarde où tu marche! – “Fool! Watch where you’re going!”

Enchanté – Nice to meet you (literally, “enchanted”)

Santé – what they say in France when making a toast

Bonne nuit – Good night

il est bon – it’s good

“Ravens of Ragnarok” – I had the hardest time figuring out a name for the band because everything I thought of already existed either currently or previously. So I abandoned “Thor’s Hammer,” “Hati and Sköll,” “Wrath of Fenrir,” (I had wanted some “Fenrir” name and ran across that one) “Raven,” and “Ragnarok” (in looking it up, I learned that it was a [“black metal” ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_metal) band, one which is often associated with misanthropic themes, including white power, and Rollo’s band is not like that). But there really is something called “Norse/Viking Folk Metal.” A list of some of these groups is [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/folkmetal/comments/33etbx/could_you_list_me_some_nordicviking_actual.%20) and a sample of how some of it sounds is here. [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4loxHrcU00I). 

And once I’d chosen “Ravens of Ragnarok,” I looked it up and found that it could definitely be something Ragnar might have chosen as a band name. There is mention in the sagas of two ravens who sit on Odin’s shoulders, Muginn (“thought”) and Huginn (“memory” or “mind”), and one of them may be part of a depiction of Odin during Ragnarok on a Norse runestone. [More here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manx_runestones#Thorwald.27s_Cross:_Br_Olsen.3B185A_.28Andreas_.28III.29.2C_MM_128.29). I like this particular piece as it’s part of “Thorwald’s Cross,” which is thought to be an example of “syncretic art,” a mixture of pagan and Christian beliefs. 

Parisians and the Eiffel Tower: I wondered whether the Gisla of this story would even go to the Eiffel Tower – it seems like Parisians might not like to go there with all the tourists. [ This page](https://www.quora.com/Do-the-French-and-Parisians-hate-the-Eiffel-Tower-or-do-they-ever-get-sick-of-it#!n=30) has a variety of responses to that question (some do and some avoid it like the plague; most seem to go only when relatives or friends come in from out of town).

Champagne – They really do sell champagne at the summit of the Eiffel Tower. It was not cheap for Rollo to treat Gisla to a glass, though – it’s at least € 13 per glass (that’s nearly $15!). [More here](http://www.restaurants-toureiffel.com/en/champagne-bar.html). The champagne bar wasn’t open yet when I went up there, so I wasn’t tempted. We did press a Euro into a souvenir coin, though. 

Padlock sign (not in the story, but the second picset) – An odd thing that I took a picture of but didn’t understand until I got home and looked it up was the “no padlocks” sign. Apparently that is because people were constantly attaching “love locks” onto the wire cage of the cupola, to the railings of a bridge (Pont des Arts), and various other romantic places around the city. The photos showing how crazy this fad got are insane. It was getting completely out of hand, so finally the city decided to cut them all off since they were ruining the architectural integrity of those places. [More here](http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3106110/Paris-removes-hundreds-thousands-padlocks-bridges-caving-locals-demands-end-popular-lovers-tradition.html). 

Twinkling tower lights – I did not know until we visited this past June that the tower twinkles for about 5 minutes every hour after dark until 1 am. We were lucky enough to have a view of the tower from our apartment window, so we enjoyed both the golden twinkles (in summer 11 pm and 12 am), and the white twinkles (1 am). Then the tower goes dark. 

Man-bun – apparently this really is a “thing” now. I looked it up just to see how people were spelling it – with or without the dash (it’s spelled both ways) – and found this [ handy site](http://www.manbunhairstyle.net).

Mona Lisa (picset) – I think you’d have to get there right when the Louvre opens and race straight for the Mona Lisa to get anywhere close without pushing and shoving. There seemed to be an attempt to have a system to file past it (I saw a “sortie” [exit] sign, so there must have been an entrance one too!), but no one seemed to be following the rules. So I settled for a side view from a distance and enjoyed other things close up in the museum. ☺ 

Picset 1 items, clockwise from upper left (and in a spiral to the center): View to the west from the summit of the Eiffel Tower, the Tuileries Garden, Eiffel Tower from the Trocadero at dusk (not my photo), champagne bar at summit (not mine), Sacre Coeur, the Arc de Triomphe, Rollo, Notre Dame from the river boat tour, Gisla (with her somewhat sly smile). 

Picset 2 items, left to right, top to bottom: Row 1: One view from the cupola at the summit of the Eiffel Tower, online photo of someone’s padlock on the cupola screen, padlock photo in the cupola, coin pressing machine on level two; Row 2: view of the Trocadero from the summit, the Musée d'Orsay from the river boat, the Musée d'Orsay interior, Van Gogh painting in the Musée d'Orsay; Row 3: the Louvre from the river boat, the Mona Lisa (from online), the Mona Lisa as you can see her at the museum (from online); Row 4: view from the Sacre Coeur (online), the Moulin Rouge, “Blanche” Metro entrance near the Moulin Rouge, 1 am white twinkling light show at the Eiffel Tower.

We saw all of these in a two-day whirlwind visit, so it’s doubtful that Gisla managed to show Rollo all of that in one day, but this is fanfic, so anything can happen. :D

~~


End file.
